I don't own these characters, except for Lenore, nor the poem at the end of
the story. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being
made *sob!*
Surcease of Sorrow. Lady Ravena
Albus Dumbledore stood in the courtyard, watching as the students enjoyed themselves in the new-fallen snow. The two largest troublemakers, James Potter and Sirius Black, were both in the hospital wing due to Quidditch injuries. (James' from a Bludger, Sirius' from a Slytherin's fist.) This meant that Remus Lupin had been left adrift, bereft of the first friends he had ever had. This left him the prime target of the Slytherin gang, headed by Malfoy, yet it was Severus Snape that led the group against Lupin, barely covering over the fact that Remus was a werewolf.
Dumbledore decided that today would, hopefully, be the end of it between the two. "Severus Snape?"
Upon hearing his name called by the Headmaster, the boy's face instantly composed itself. He left the group, coming to a respectful halt and dipped his head. "Headmaster." "Would you kindly come with me, Mr. Snape?" Without waiting for a reply, he turned and went into the school, up several flights of stairs before they arrived at his office. He bade the boy to sit down as soon as the door was closed. Dumbledore settled down in his own chair behind his desk. He placed his hands, folded, onto it and leaned forward. "I have watched, for some time now, you're personal dislike of Mr. Lupin. Before you knew of his affliction, it was a general dislike. I had expected that; after all, you are both in rival houses, both too proud to back down when they are wrong. Yet in the last month, you have shown a marked increase in your hatred toward him." He held up a hand to forestall any argument. "Hear me out, my boy. There is a question I must ask of you. What personal hatred of werewolves do you have, Severus? It is not general mistrust in you that the teachers have sensed." The 15 year old's eyes were like mirrors, reflecting everything else back at the older man. He said nothing, and nothing showed on his face; yet Albus knew that he had struck something deep in the young man. He regretted the necessity of his next statement. "Either you tell me, or I will be forced to write to your parents asking them to explain this. I am responsible for the physical and mental health of the students. That includes bottled-up hatred, Mr. Snape." The young man finally spoke after another few months had passed. "Even if you wrote to Father, he would ignore it, and tell you nothing." His voice was cold and emotionless, merely stating fact. His eyes became mocking though his tone and attitude remained respectful. "Will you force the answer from me, sir? I believe that is illegal concerning minors." Dumbledore shook his head. "I do not use force on any problem. It only makes the situation worse. If, as you say, I will receive no answer from your father, I would hope that you would supply the information." The young man shrugged. "You will find out in any case, from any tavern keeper worth his ale. I have nothing to hide that you can't find out."
Surcease of Sorrow. Lady Ravena
Albus Dumbledore stood in the courtyard, watching as the students enjoyed themselves in the new-fallen snow. The two largest troublemakers, James Potter and Sirius Black, were both in the hospital wing due to Quidditch injuries. (James' from a Bludger, Sirius' from a Slytherin's fist.) This meant that Remus Lupin had been left adrift, bereft of the first friends he had ever had. This left him the prime target of the Slytherin gang, headed by Malfoy, yet it was Severus Snape that led the group against Lupin, barely covering over the fact that Remus was a werewolf.
Dumbledore decided that today would, hopefully, be the end of it between the two. "Severus Snape?"
Upon hearing his name called by the Headmaster, the boy's face instantly composed itself. He left the group, coming to a respectful halt and dipped his head. "Headmaster." "Would you kindly come with me, Mr. Snape?" Without waiting for a reply, he turned and went into the school, up several flights of stairs before they arrived at his office. He bade the boy to sit down as soon as the door was closed. Dumbledore settled down in his own chair behind his desk. He placed his hands, folded, onto it and leaned forward. "I have watched, for some time now, you're personal dislike of Mr. Lupin. Before you knew of his affliction, it was a general dislike. I had expected that; after all, you are both in rival houses, both too proud to back down when they are wrong. Yet in the last month, you have shown a marked increase in your hatred toward him." He held up a hand to forestall any argument. "Hear me out, my boy. There is a question I must ask of you. What personal hatred of werewolves do you have, Severus? It is not general mistrust in you that the teachers have sensed." The 15 year old's eyes were like mirrors, reflecting everything else back at the older man. He said nothing, and nothing showed on his face; yet Albus knew that he had struck something deep in the young man. He regretted the necessity of his next statement. "Either you tell me, or I will be forced to write to your parents asking them to explain this. I am responsible for the physical and mental health of the students. That includes bottled-up hatred, Mr. Snape." The young man finally spoke after another few months had passed. "Even if you wrote to Father, he would ignore it, and tell you nothing." His voice was cold and emotionless, merely stating fact. His eyes became mocking though his tone and attitude remained respectful. "Will you force the answer from me, sir? I believe that is illegal concerning minors." Dumbledore shook his head. "I do not use force on any problem. It only makes the situation worse. If, as you say, I will receive no answer from your father, I would hope that you would supply the information." The young man shrugged. "You will find out in any case, from any tavern keeper worth his ale. I have nothing to hide that you can't find out."